


Just a Dwarfling

by illyth



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3919810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyth/pseuds/illyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin was 196 when he died at the Battle of the Five Armies. His story was a long one full of joy along with grief. He was born in the prosperity of Erebor and given a brother and sister; He became a warrior and a leader. We know how he died now learn how he lived; before he was a king he was just a dwarfling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Dwarfling

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two chapter story that gives you a brief overview of Thorin's life growing up. It was HEAVILY influenced by The Lion King musical I saw this weekend on stage. I just had to write it. 
> 
> Un'betaed!

Just a Dwarfling

 

“Behold! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, born a Prince of Durin, of Erebor the last great Dwarrow kingdom, in this the Third age of Arda year 2746.” Called a voice from the battlements to the crowds gathered at the gates of the Lonely Mountain. Their voices rose in cheer and song reverberating through the courtyard and into the Healing Wing, for a new Prince of Durin, a blessing on the line from Mahal, had been born this day.

“Thrain, please, draw the drapes” it was a tired voice that came from the bed “they will wake our Thorin.” A tall dwarf crossed the room, seven golden beads shone from his salt and pepper beard, intricate tattoos of clan and deed shown on his brow, a permanent etching of his place as the crown prince of Erebor. He wore neither rings nor armor but a great grin for he was a father this day. With the drapes drawn and the room bathed in cool shade he turned to his wife, his One, his _ghivasel_ , Bergdris. “My dear, you were wonderful.” He looked to her golden hair and the dark bundle nestled at her breast “but you must rest. He will wake again soon. Sleep while you can, I will keep watch.” He picked up the bundle, his son and kissed his dear one on the brow. “Come Thorin, we shall let your _Amad_ rest. Your _Adadel_ will be waiting.” With a tiny fist in his beard he heard his wife whisper a hello for Thror, as she slipped into her sleep. Stepping to the hallway he saw his father, Thror, King Under the Mountain, asleep in an armchair, brought to wait for the birth of his first Grandchild.

” _Adad,_ I have someone to meet you.” The dwarf gently shook his father awake and with a huff he opened his eyes. “Ho ho! Is this a _ghivashith_ from my son and dearest daughter? Is this my prince?” the older man cooed to the blue bundle, the large zig zigs of beads in his beard clinking. “Give him here boy! I only have one life time to spoil the thing, let me get started!” “ _Adad_ ” sighed the younger man “he is only born, you have nothing that he wants.” “No,” laughed the new Grandfather “not yet. But in a few years our Thorin will realize that he is a Prince and he will want for nothing. We shall ensure that.” with the bundle clasped between them the King and Crown Prince Under the Mountain gazed from the window to their kingdom, knowing their reign and the peace of their people was secured in them, three generations of the Line of Durin.

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

Thorin was bored. So very, very BORED!!!! _Adad_ and _Amad_ were both in the Healer wing waiting for this supposed _ghivashith_ to arrive, while he waited with Fundin in the hall. ‘Usurper’ thought Thorin, ‘that’s what it is. Coming to steal my family and my attention, Erebor did not need another Prince! Oh, they had tried to explain it, this being an older brother business. It sounded dreadful, looking out for someone, keeping them safe and out of trouble, helping Amad with feedings and, Mahal help him, its small clothes. Thorin would rather go to his Quenya lessons.

“Thorin” Fundin sighed, having spotted the glower on the Prince’s face “we have talked about this. This baby is to be your new brother or sister, you will love them. And I hope you do not look at them the way you are looking at the doorway. They are not coming to ruin your life.”

“No one asked me!” Thorin hopped off his chair, his dark hair swaying with his agitated pacing, his short legs trying to mimic the gait of his Grandfather but not quite capturing the majesty of it instead making the _Kuzith_ look more than a little ridiculous. “What am I to be if I am not a _ghivashith?”_

Fundin looked upward silently cursing the stubbornness of the line of Durin. “You will be _shomakhith_ and _zabadel_ to this young one. They will be new to this world and know nothing of how to be a proper dwarf. Have you not learned much in your years? Are you not wise and swift? Do you have nothing to teach this youngling?” the elder dwarf knew he was laying it on thick but Thorin was denser than granite and unlikely to notice such blatant manipulation. “Surely the son of Thrain, son of Thror will be able to show one small dwarfling the proper way to be a Prince of Erebor?”

 Thorin stopped his pacing and leaned his forehead against the wall. “They will know nothing?” he whispered “Not how to fight or speak?”

 “Most certainly not.” huffed Fundin

 “And you all want me to teach it?” there was the skepticism.

“Of course Thorin, who better to teach them than the most promising swordsman since Durin himself? Think how much easier it will be to sneak food from Cook with four hands instead of two? When they are bigger you could even reach the cookie jar if you worked together.”

 The prince hadn’t considered this. True, the babe would be useless initially. But after a few years they could be a great strategic asset. Thorin could already puppy eyes his way out of most trouble, but if there were two of them…… oh Mahal. He would never get in trouble again!

 “Tell me Fundin” he turned back to his Grandfather’s adviser, his voice taking on an imperious air “for how long will this baby be helpless? When will they walk and talk?”

 “Well my Prince” Fundin replied, using the same tone he spoke in during Court and Council meetings “I would expect them to walk within a year and begin speaking sentences by the time of their second name day.”

Thorin’s hand had come up to hold his chin, clearly in deep thought. Two years of misery for a lifetime partner in crime, one that he had molded and shaped into the ultimate weapon of stealth and mischief? “Well then!” boomed the young Prince his fist hitting his open palm “Fundin let it be known that this _ghivashith,_ shall be under my protection. I will teach them everything I know!”

“I will inform you parents and the King immediately.” Standing the adviser gave the prince a low bow “Would you like to announce this to the kingdom yourself? Or would you like me to write a proclamation instead?”

“A proclamation will do nicely Fundin. Thank you for your service. Now go, I will stand guard.” Thorin moved to stand in front of the doorway his hand on his wooden sword at his waist as Fundin walked from the room. A large grin stretched the dwarf’s face; Thror was going to love this!

                Thorin stood guard for the next four hours waiting for his new sibling and when the cry went out from the battlement there was an addition that had never been said with any of the Name Day proclamations that had been heard before.

 “Behold! Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror; a Prince of Durin and of Erebor the last great Dwarrow kingdom born in this, the Third age of Arda year 2751. Let it further be known that Prince Frerin will forever be under the protection and guidance of Prince Thorin!”

In the same healing room as five years ago, a dark head of hair bent over a small bundle topped with a blonde tuft. “Fear not Frerin. I am your big brother and I will teach you exactly how to get cookies from Cook. I even promise to share.” He dropped a kiss on the bundle and whispered secret plans and schemes to his brother as Thror, Thrain and Fundin looked on.

 “I have a feeling we are going to regret this.” muttered Thrain.

 “Most certainly” muttered back Thror and Fundin. Thorin was trouble enough on his own, but now he had an apprentice. Mahal have mercy on their Kingdom.

* * *

 

Thorin took care to be extra quiet as he snuck out his bed and into the hall. While his parents tended to sleep very deeply the guards outside their rooms did not sleep at all. So he walked barefoot down the stone hallway and to his brother’s room.

The nursery was dark the only light coming from a glow stone placed next to Frerin’s crib. His brother had assumed his favorite sleeping position laying stomach down with his knees tucked to his chest with his rear stuck up into the air. _Amad_ said Thorin used to sleep like that too but it seemed a very un-princely way to sleep and refused to believe it.

Thorin pulled a footstool to the side of the crib and scaled over the sides and into his brothers space careful not to step on the smaller dwarfling. He grabbed his brother’s ankles and slowly stretched the toddler out so he was lying flat again and wedged his wider frame down next to him. As Thorin knew he would Frerin eventually turned his face into Thorin’s neck and tucked into his big brothers chest. Thorin dropped a kiss on the growing amount of blonde hair on the babes head and settled in to sleep until _Amad_ came and found him.

But Thorin’s sleep was disturbed far earlier than expected when multiple pairs of boots tread into the nursery the soft shuffling rousing the Prince from a light sleep. _Amad_ and _Adad_ did not wear their boots at night, preferring their soft soled slippers once they got home from their day’s work. Nor would the Guards walk into their chambers unannounced, they always rang the bell system that sounded in their common rooms and his parents’ bedroom.

A figure stepped from the shadow and into the light of the glow stone and leant over the resting Princes’. Thorin did not know this dwarf. A curved dagger glinted in the intruders hands and Thorin shut his eyes and pretended to breathe deeply, the strange dwarf chuckled to his companions when he realized that both of the Princes were in the same bed, “Looks like we are going to get a two-fer tonight boys.”

Thorin tried desperately to tame his breathing when the dwarf’s words registered in his mind these were assassins sent to kill him and his brother! They had probably murdered their guards to gain entrance to the royal household. What if they went after his parent’s next? Thorin’s hands tightened on the small sleeping body next to his own and felt the steady thrumming of his brother’s pulse, the small puff of air against his neck.

Frerin was just a baby! They couldn’t- he wouldn’t let them! So even though his heart was pounding in fear, even though he felt wetness spreading between his legs so terrified was he Thorin open his eyes and looked into his attackers eyes, noticing that his arm had moved far above his head placing the tip above Frerin’s exposed back and screamed in wordless terror. 

The dwarf took a step backward in surprise before growling and bringing his arm down quickly, his fellows rushing into the hallway possibly to go and finish the Crown Prince or fend him off.

Faster than Thorin had ever moved before he rolled on top of Frerin, whose eyes had opened at his brother’s scream, and shielded him from the oncoming dagger as best he could.  Thorin’s scream changed in pitch as a burning pain erupted in his shoulder and he buried his face into blonde hair. Frerin was a coil of tight muscle beneath him, squirming to free himself from the larger bulk of his brother and the pain that entered Thorin’s voice trigged his own and Frerin’s voice rose in its own warbling cry.

Before the assassin could raise his dagger again the commotion that had been in the hallway erupted into the nursery several dwarfs falling to the floor as they were kicked through the doorway. In the haze of pain and terror Thorin could hear the clanking of armor and metal tipped boots of royal guards and if he would have opened his eyes he would have seen his assailant slump over the side of the crib with a dagger embedded in the back of his neck but Thorin just continued to scream at clutch at Frerin who was sobbing hysterically.

“Thorin! Thorin!” a voice was calling above the noise trying to break through the child’s terror, but Thorin could not hear it and did not have the courage to open his eyes again, strong hands reached into the crib and started to pry him loose from Frerin and he screamed louder in retaliation, beating the shadowed figure with his small fists.

“ **NO! NO! NOOOO!”** he fought against the grip that carefully pulled him into a strong chest covered in fabric that was soft against his wet cheek.

“Shhhhh, Thorin it’s alright now. It’s okay now. I’m here.” The deep voice rumbled through the strong chest and the frantic dwarfling began to quiet in his Father’s arms his cries turning into hiccups as he nuzzled farther into his Adad’s hold.

“Frerin?” he asked and Thrain tilted his head to where his Amad stood rocking the youngest Prince and Thorin burst into tears of relief as his Amad inspected Frerin and found him unharmed. Several guards were removing bodies from the small room and Fundin and another dwarf, this one clad in black fabric and leather holsters stood near the crib, inspecting the assailant slumped over.

“That was an excellent throw Ri.” Fundin commented to the Spymaster, inspecting the perfect the placement of the dagger in the dead dwarf’s neck.

“That’s what you pay me for Lord Fundin, though it would have never known which room they went to first if the young Prince hadn’t of set off the alarm. There is blood on this dagger.” Spymaster Ri commented when he picked up the curved implement that had fallen under the crib when its wielder fell. “Somebody light the torches!” the ginger dwarf commanded and the room began to brighten as torches were lit and Thrain and Bergdis rocked their sons amidst the chaos. Frerin’s cries had tapered off though his grip remained firm in his mother’s beard but Thorin was still crying and hiccupping in his father’s arms as he struggled to soothe his son.

Fundin and Ri looked over to the royal couple and paled when they saw the stain spreading across Thorin’s shoulder.

“Someone call Groin!” Fundin called quickly as he pulled Thorin from his father’s arms and laid him on his stomach on the low dresser and started stripping off his night shirt.

“Oh Mahal!” Bergdis and Thrain paled at the sight of the stab wound on their son, it was deep and bleeding sluggishly and the Bergdis was quick to cover Frerin’s eyes from the gruesome sight.

“We need to staunch the bleeding until Groin gets here,” Fundin grabbed the stained nightshirt and pressed it against the wound bringing fresh tears to Thorin’s eyes.

Suddenly a large dwarf with grey hair burst into the room and shoved guards out of his path as he rushed to the young Prince’s side immediately tilting an opaque flask into the crying boy’s mouth. “Drink it down laddie, shh now, everything will be alright.” And before Groin could finish inspecting the wound Thorin was deeply asleep the healer muttering frantically above him as he began to repair the damage done to his shoulder.

Hours later Thorin woke up in a fresh night shirt in his parent’s bed his mother sitting at the bedside cradling his sleeping brother.

“ _Amad?”_ his throat felt dry and his voice made it itch. Bergdis was quick to put Frerin down on the bed and move to his side easing him up and handing him a glass of water, while Thorin was drinking his mother called to the guards outside the room, demanding the fetch Thrain immediately. Before Thorin drained the glass Thrain, Thror and Groin came barging into the room the healer immediately undoing the large shirt to expose the bandages around his shoulder. It was not so deep that it would not heal and the assassin’s aim had been compromised by the shock of the Prince raising the alarm but he has still managed to nick bone and penetrate much of muscle.

“You stupid, brave boy.” Thrain said over and over with tears in his eyes as he held his son tight as the healer inspected the wound. “What in the world were you doing in your brother’s room?” the heir questioned his oldest, “What happened?”

Thorin burst into a fresh wave of tears as he relived the terror from last night. “I like sleeping in his crib,” he admitted, “it is so warm and comfortable and I love him _Adad,_ what if he needs me and I’m not there?”

“It’s a lucky thing you were there last night Prince Thorin,” Groin interrupted the father and son as he re wrapped the wound. “A wound this deep would have killed your brother no matter where it landed.” This comment made Thorin reach for the sleeping Frerin with his uninjured arm, pulling on him until his mother moved Frerin close enough for Thorin to touch.

“I knew I had to protect him.” Thorin muttered as his family gathered around him enclosing him in a tight circle of hair and warmth.

Fundin interrupted the family moment when he walked into the room with Ri at his side, “You are an excellent protector Prince Thorin.”

“One of the intruders lived through the fighting last night;” Master Ri explained “apparently our young Prince did more than set off the alarm the assailant we interrogated says that Thorin rolled on top of Frerin before they could land a blow.

All the eyes turned to the injured dwarfling in the bed, their eyes wide in amazement.

“Thorin is this true?” Thror asked.

“He’s my brother,” Thorin answered with conviction, “I will always protect him.”

Thrain and Bergdis moved their sons into the same room when it became clear that they could not sleep without the other nearby, though Thorin still ended up in Frerin’s bed for many months after the attack.

Six weeks after the incident Thorin joined the sons of Fundin in their martial art classes. He was the youngest dwarf to start warrior training in the history of Durin’s Line and he showed the most proficiency.

Many months later Thorin ran into the living room his brother dangling in his arms as he shouted in excitement to his parents. “He talked! Frerin talked!” he shouted as Thrain and Bergdis scrambled to gather around their boys. “Watch!” Thorin instructed as he sat Frerin on the floor and kneeled down. “Frerin, who am I?” he asked, “Who am I?”

“ _Nada!”_ the baby squealed in glee, “ _Nada.”_

For many days after Thorin’s face had a giant grin as he told everyone that Frerin’s first word was brother.

* * *

 

Thorin and Frerin could hear their Mother shouting behind the closed door, the thick wood doing little to muffle the curses she was hurling at their father.

“This is the last one Thrain! I swear it! Three is more than enough-“the Princesses words degenerated in a shrill scream as Groin’s voice rose above it.

“Push my Lady, push!”

As their Mother’s voice reached a new octave is cut off and in its place raised a high pitched squall.

The baby was born!

The Princes’ stood at attention outside the door each eager to greet their new brother or sister. After many minutes where the only sounds from the room were indistinct mutters of the healers and the happy voices of their parents the door was opened for them.

“Quiet now.” Thrain cautioned as he led the eager boys into the room, “your _Amad_ and _namadith_ are tired.”

“ _Namadith?_ We have a sister?” they breathed in wonder together for dams were rare in all dwarf kingdoms but to have a Princess born into the line of Durin was a rarer occurrence than for the rest of the population.

The brothers’ faces were painted with awe as their mother motioned them closer and removed the cloth that covered the babe’s face where it nursed at her breast. The small head was covered in black fuzz the same shade as Thorin’s though it had the same curly texture as Frerin’s.

 “Boys I would like to introduce your sister Dis.” Bergdis looked upon her sons with joy as the immediately began to argue about who would get to hold their new sister first, eventually they compromised and held a sleeping Dis between their chests supporting the babe together as the whispered about each of her tiny and delicate features.

* * *

 

The light of the Arkenstone rippled throughout the throne room, glinting off the beads in his grandfather’s beard as Thorin walked up the stairs to stand at his side. Thorin wished he did not have to stay inside the Mountain today. He wanted to go riding with _Amad,_ Frerin and Dis in the forest but Grandfather said that he needed to start spending more time in state business and less on shenanigans. So Thorin was cursed to stand next to his grandfather as they waited for Thrain to arrive from his duties in the mountain.

 When the Crown Prince arrived his face was set in a deep scowl, his displeasure aimed at the shining gem set above the throne. Thrain had hated the Arkenstone ever since it had been unearthed from the dark and fought harshly when the King demanded it be set into the throne. Thrain and Thror had almost come to blows over the decision and their relationship had been shaky since then. Neither was pleased to be in the presence of another as the waited for open court to begin. The morning stretched into the afternoon before Thorin was given a break from the general assembly and he was quick to steal away to the battlements above the square. But the good weather and fresh air did nothing but sour Thorin’s mood he could just spy the flapping pennants of his family’s riding party where it was stopped next to the Greenwood.

Thror had not let Thorin leave the mountain in months forcing him to attend court dinners and council meetings, making him dress in stiff clothes and armor. His grandfather had begun insisting that everyone be attired in court regalia all the time and when they were gifted with new clothes or jewelry a scowl would appear on Thrain’s face. The serving people whispered of madness, that his Grandfather had been taken by an illness that made him lust for gold and jewels and Thorin couldn’t help but fear they were right.

 

His father has not been sleeping well lately and Thorin often found the lights in his study on when he checked on his siblings as they slept. Fundin had also been more dour lately a fact that did not escape the notice of either of his sons. Balin and Dwalin could not dispel Thorin’s fears that the rumors were true and that the dwarf that had showered him with attention and affection would never surface from the serious and paranoid personality that had taken its place.

“It’s time Thorin.” Balin hated to interrupt the few moments that Thorin had to himself these days but their time was quickly dwindling before the needed to be back at court.

Thorin sighed and turned to his first friend and future adviser.

“Alright Balin, let’s go.” And the two turned and headed back down the stairs and into the mountain. They were halfway down the stairs when strong wind blew through the openings in the stone, the force of if bringing them both to their knees. They could see the path of the wind as it swept through the kingdom, toppling over crates and bringing dwarves to their knees as it passed. Quickly the two rose from the floor and sprinted back up the stairs.

Thorin’s heart stuttered in his chest as he looked out to see hundreds of trees flattened from the force of the wind. He turned to Balin with fear in his eyes. “Balin sound the alarm.” Another rush of air came sweeping through the battlement making pennants snap into their eyes, “Quickly, call up the guard!”

“Thorin what is it?”

Thorin could feel his knees quiver as he shouted to his friend. “Dragon.” Then he turned into the mountain and shouted with all the air in his lungs, just before the beast descended on Dale and lit it a blaze. “DRAGON!” his shout echoed through the mountain as the warning bells began to ring.

Thorin ordered all of the guards off the battlement and down to the front gate. “We are not archers and cannot fight him from here but we can defend from the ground!” Thorin watched as every available warrior formed into tight ranks, creating a phalanx of spears and swords.

What followed was a massacre.

The dragon burst through the doors, ripping them from their hinges and worming inside. He was gigantic taller than any tree bigger than any creature Thorin had ever imagined and the efforts of Thorin and his fellows were like flies to a bear. With ever step it took it crushed a dozen warriors and every time it exhaled flame lit the people of the mountain alight like a match does dry tinder. He had no choice but to flee, pulling his grandfather from the treasury as he struggled to go back to his precious Arkenstone.

Erebor was gong, lost to the fire drake Smaug. Hundreds were dead, possibly thousands, and the city of Dale was nothing but a smoking ruin. When King Thranduil turned his back to the burning cities and people the last alliance between dwarves, men and elves was broken. Never to be reforged.

Thorin was racked with guilt at the joy he felt upon finding his family alive. The riding party had been spared death by dragon fire and his father had managed to escape with Fundin at his side. That night the children of Thrain lay together in a pile on the dirt of the road and held each other tight. There would be no aid from other lands, they were doomed to wander.

Starving and grieving the people of Erebor would trek to the west and settle in the hills of Dunland for twenty years. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
